


The Handsome Devil You Don't Know

by Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demons, Being immortal sucks, Collaboration, Demon Deals, Immortality, Jack is a Little Shit, Jack is a Tease, M/M, Not Beta Read, Short Chapters, dark timothy lawrence, deals gone wrong, plans are for the weak we write like bro's, this fic has amazing art, this has nothing planned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-25
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:30:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind/pseuds/Eternal_Garbage_of_a_Spotless_Mind
Summary: Rhys accidentally summons a demon. Like,reallyaccidentally. The thing has charm, wit andpreferencesand, above all, Handsome Jack has surprising amount of baggage.





	1. The Summoning

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! Thanks for stopping by. So this here was born because of an awesome art and my boredome. I LOVE AUs, I live through them and so I thought to myself "Damn, that art is good. Gotta do something cool with that." So I wrote a little something after asking original creator if it is ok to use their art like that. It was. So, uh, here we are. At some point this weird stuff here became a collaboration between me and the artist, [zopadthekat](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com/). Please check out her tumblr, that art deserves a lot of love!
> 
>  
> 
> [](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com)  
> 
> 
>  
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>  
> 
> And if you like our little project, let us know over comments, kudos or chat us up on tumblr, [zopadthekat](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com/) and [Eternal_Garbage](https://eternalgarbage.tumblr.com/)

He should have seen it coming. When you are raised by a creepy doomsday elder god worshiping warlock cult you should see such things coming from mile away. Unless you are actively trying to forget all that weird crap from your overly eventful youth, that is.

All it took was an accidental blood smear across the damned summoning rune.

Rhys was always so very careful with his blood, it had magic locked within people were hardly ready for. Hell, he was hardly ready for it, one in a row of dozens of reasons he had left the commune for the city. Not even a drop was allowed to go astray, it could lead to terrible consequences. Just imagine some poor unsuspecting sod getting a nice and potent blood transfusion from anyone within the clan. It had happened once or twice and the events that unfolded were rather… unpleasant. That one guy was still talked about around the campfires and in weed circles.

Rhys felt the blood trickle down his jaw the moment before it had reached the prominent circular rune on his neck. To the general populace it was a ‘rad tat’ and he played along, imagining some fancy story about individuality and finding oneself in the sea of masses. Factually, it was the imprinted clan mark no amount of positive magic could get rid of. Rhys tried the wiccans, the white mages, the druids haunting the compost piles outside the city. They all chased him away as soon as he revealed the rune. The Hyperions were among the most vicious and dedicated practitioners of the dark arts.

“Crap, crap, crap! ” He dropped the razor into the sink, hands desperately trying to stop the bleeding from reaching the rune but as the sharp pain exploded in the left side of his body Rhys tumbled down, clutching at the neck.

_Oh shit._

“Quite right, kitten,” an aggravated rumble replied somewhere from under the ceiling. “Did you actually summon me in the freaking bathroom?! If you expect me to wipe your ass then get over yourself, kiddo.”

Rhys rubbed his neck, nurturing the subsiding pain and lifted his eyes towards the source, only to exhale in utter horror and attempt to stuff himself underneath the sink. The demon was absolutely _enormous_ : he, or rather, it, was sitting on its knees and was still bent in two, unable to fit itself in the confinements of the high ceiling bathroom. The thing was disturbingly beautiful too: black skin decorated with golden shimmering scales that were running up the thighs and forearms, piercing yellow cat eyes accentuated by the pitch dark sclera and a row of teeth that would make a shark jealous.

“Yes, I am pretty. Are you done staring? Cuz, like, I don’t mind. Soak it all in, little mage.”

“I wasn’t…” Rhys muttered, feeling blush creeping up his cheeks. A long sharp claw urged his head sideways and the demon scoffed.

“Oh fuck me, a Hyperion. You, guys, are always so. freaking. needy.” The claw brushed against the drying blood and the demon brought it to his lips, flicking the droplets with its tongue. “So Rhysie - cakes, what’s it gonna be? Two virgins for the freaky stuff, sweetcheeks.”

When Rhys said nothing the demon’s nostrils flared and he laughed - a surprising heartfelt and friendly laughter for such a monstrosity.

“Oh I _see_ … Make it one virgin,” the claw tilted Rhys’ chin as golden eyes examined his face, teeth flashing in the shadows of the ceiling. “Handsome Jack _never_ leaves his charge disappointed.”


	2. It's Not Even His Final Form

“I don’t have the whole day, you know.” The demon drawled. “You wanna be top or bottom, babycakes?”

Rhys flushed crimson and huffed, standing up and slowly composing himself,all the while trying to stare the creature down. The demon might have had big mouth and caught him by surprise but if Rhys remembered the binding nature of the summoning ritual and he did - all too well, in fact - the creature had to obey him or suffer the consequences.

“Oh wait, I forgot,” the toothy grin flashed somewhere under the ceiling. “Let me rephrase it for you, babe. Do you like to stick things in or get stuffed like a skag on Mercenary Day?” The demon made a lewd gesture, making the young man chew his lip in both shame and irritation.

“ _Enough_ ,” Rhys said as loud and stern as possible, watching Jack open his mouth and closing it wordlessly, the rune rippling with numbing discomfort indicating that the demon was not happy with the interruption. “I didn’t summon you for.. Whatever is that you usually do. I didn’t summon you at all, actually. It was an accident.”

The thunderous laughter made the mirror rattle thinly and Rhys thanked the gods, both old and new, that he was smart enough to lead a solitary lifestyle outside any neighbour’s range.

“Oh this is too good! That’s a first! How an idiot like you is even alive?!”

Rhys bunched his face up in anger and wedged his nails into the rune, watching the demon’s eyes flash as he growled and clawed at own neck.

“Point taken, _warlock_ ,” Jack hissed and eyed him intensely. “What do you want then?”

“Firstly, take a more appropriate form. You are destroying my ceiling.”

“Is that a wish?” Jack asked slyly but Rhys shook his head, eliciting another groan. “Fine.”

The creature’s form started to shimmer and collapse in, becoming smaller and lighter in color. When Jack was done, Rhys had to step away to be able to make an eye - contact: the demon was still at least head and a half taller than he was. His skin had changed from black to mildly tanned, accentuating every muscle as Jack elegantly cracked his neck. The golden scales were gone but the tail, as well as obsidian horns and the claws, stayed. Then there were the eyes: still golden cat eyes on the pitch black sclera. Ultimately it was an extremely weird and unsettlingly beautiful combination of the man and the beast. Rhys’ gaze slid down toned scarred chest dusted with dark hairs, down to the flat abdomen and along the treasure trail all the way to - His eyes flew open and he quickly turned around, digging for a largest towel possible.

No towel was that big.

“Can you, uh... Can you, like, wear pants or something?” Rhys stuttered, realizing the view aroused him more than he had expected.

“You know, Rhysie, my proposal is still on the table,” Large hand ran down his back, claws digging lightly into the skin. “Do the do and we both can be on our way, hmm?” The warm breath was suddenly near his ear. “Just wish it.”

“Pants, Jack. _Please_.”


	3. Barely Legal (In Some Realms)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, check the hell out of this art by [zopadthekat](https://zopadthekat.tumblr.com/) below. if you are once of those phone readers like myself and the image is too huge, you are welcome to check the tumblr post I've made, for for once you will welcome this resizing shtick that hellsite does.
> 
> And do not forget to give the artist LOVE.
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> And if you like what you saw, leave a comment maybe? it will surely inspire me to write more and the artist to draw <3

* * *

“So, cupcake, where’re we at? Any wishes?” Jack drawled from the couch he was manspreading upon, chewing on something he dug up in Rhys’ fridge. After realizing he was not fitting on the sofa the comfortable way, the demon swallowed his pride and shrunk to the proper human size, making sure he still stayed an inch or so above his summoner. He did not bother with pants and Rhys fumed quietly thinking about the naked buttocks and _other_ body parts that were rubbing against the expensive piece of furniture. Jack had a blanket draped loosely around one knee, giving the warlock a perfect view of his lean but chiseled hip with absolutely tantalizing dip. 

What the demon did not know is that Rhys was using the time wisely, gathering all the information he could on the being he had accidentally summoned. The young warlock may have not looked like a bookworm but back in the day he often spent sleepless nights pouring over source material and had accumulated quite vast knowledge of demonology for someone his age. 

To begin with, Rhys pondered as he thoughtfully examined Jack’s sharp profile, demons from the nether realm rarely looked humanoid. They rarely looked like anything conceivable by a human mind: just a bunch of angry tentacles, teeth and myriad eyeballs swarming in the dark mass of terrifying _nothing_. Handsome Jack’s current form suggested he had acquired it… somehow. Or, if he were to take an educated guess, from someone. Next the warlock’s gaze slid down the neck, catching on the rune that was identical to his own and onward, along the arm, where another mark of an unfamiliar design encircled his wrist. Typically a demon would bear the rune of its summoner until the contract was fulfilled and it was free. A marking like that meant that somewhere out there Jack had an unfinished business, which, once again, was peculiar, considering he had answered the pull of the blood and it would be impossible if another unfulfilled binding was involved.

“How old are you?” Rhys muttered without realising he said it out loud and the demon’s head snapped sideways, thirty two teeth glimmering in the dimness of the room, soft light bouncing off the sharp oversized canines.

“What’s it to you, pretty boy?”

“Just curious,” Rhys shrugged his shoulders and gave the demon the sweetest of smiles. “Are you one of the First?”

Of course he was not, Rhys has seen ‘a’ First once and he still had occasional nightmares about it but honestly? It was a good conversation starter. Jack snorted loudly and a long claw flicked a dark long curl off his forehead.

“You’re really something, Rhysie. Never ask a demon about their age, bad manners, pumpkin,” he paused, lips pursed sourly. “I’m five hundred and thirty.”

“What, millenniums?” Rhys asked slyly and when Jack stayed silent he pressed his fingers into the tattoo on his neck. The demon yelped and his own mark shimmered slightly, reminding he had to be an obedient pet.

“Years, you prick!” He barked out as he rubbed the sore place with his palm, hissing softly.

“You’re - You’re a baby,” Rhys laughed out loud and then his tone became mockingly cooing. “Small demon baby. Oh god, it’s adorable.”

In two swift leaps Jack was next to him as the large and rather pointy claws encircled Rhys’s cheeks, drawing blood from the small punctures that became wounds as Jack dragged his nails down. His skin almost rippled as it started turning black at the fingertips, a few more sharp teeth joining his already predatory smile. The symbol on demon’s neck lit up once more and he grit his teeth in pain as the identical blue groves cut through his cheeks, mimicking those of Rhys. Through all of this Jack’s grip on the young man did not wane for even a moment.

“Remember this: degrade me one more time, little warlock and I will make sure you’ll regret it. No matter how much it hurts me I’ll make sure it hurts _you_ more.”

When the young man nodded slowly, Jack leaned in, his lips almost touching Rhys’: close enough to feel the breath tickle the skin like the lightest of feathers but far enough to feel robbed of the touch.

“Good boy.”


	4. Expect the Unexpected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To tantalize you some more the amazing art by zopadthekat is at the end of the chapter. But please, do yourself a favour and don't look before reading. I can promise it is worth the wait :3
> 
> So many thanks for your response both about the art and about the fic. We are thrilled you like our little project as much as we do. Please keep treating us to the amazing kudos and comments.

Jack was not allowed into his bedroom. At first Rhys tried to be nice about it only to wake up to an intense glare of two amber coals in the darkness as the demon sat in the chair watching him intensely. Three times he was kicked out but Jack always came back, inching just a smidge closer the coming night. It amused him to freak Rhys out and finally enough was enough when Jack made it all the way to the foot of his bed. The young warlock had to admit the defeat and warded the room: it was not impossible for Jack to get in but it would cause him a lot of discomfort and alert Rhys of his intentions in time. 

He was peacefully sleeping, curled up amongst the soft pillows and blankets when the energy released by the broken wards nudged at his senses, forcing Rhys awake. He sat up, straightening his back and angrily wedged the fingers into the neck rune, expecting swearing and hissing on the other side.

“Remove your magic crap!” Jack yelled and landed his fist on the door, cursing as it shot protective spell at him. “Let me in!”

“Go away!” Rhys yelled back and was ready to dive back under the blanket when the door gave way and flew open, the demon stumbling in without his usual lazy cat - like grace. He looked around like a cornered animal and jumped on the bed, wrapping himself in Rhys’ blanket much similar to a burrito.

“Jack?” Rhys asked carefully, pulling the covers away and staring into two wide - open golden eyes. “What _are_ you even doing?”

“He knows I’m here,” the demon hissed as his snake - like irises shot open and narrowed to slits again. If Rhys did not know better he would think he heard fear in Jack’s voice. “Ward your frikkin’ house, bring out the big guns! Do _something!_ ”

“It already is,” Rhys answered, referring to his home and frowned in confusion. “Who’s ‘he’?”

“Stop talking and fight for me, I’m _your_ fucking property now!” The demon ripped the blanket from under Rhys and in one powerful motion kicked him off the bed. The young man rolled on the floor and next moment was on his feet, blue light fizzling angrily at his fingertips as he opened his mouth to yell at Jack.

The feel of powerful magic rippled through the room, making Rhys forget his previous engagement and turn around on the balls of his feet. A purple circle formed itself on the floor, jagged lines circling within it, forming drawings and runes of which most were completely unfamiliar even to Rhys. Teleportation magic was universally considered very rare: warlocks and mages alike agreed that it was too dangerous and difficult to practice, requiring - above all - tremendous amount of power. It drew its strength from blood rituals, which mages and the likes shunned like plague, while warlocks used it left and right. The problem was that the amount of power required was proportionate to the amount of caster’s blood needed and very few could spare _that_ much.

House’s protection was not meant to deflect a spell of such magnitude and Rhys watched, wide eyed and mouth slightly agape as a tall figure materialized within the summoning circle, the light dimming until the features of the newcomer became visible.

Before Rhys stood yet another Jack. Or someone who looked awfully a lot like him once the horns and the pointy teeth were out of the equation.

“Jack,” the stranger called softly, hand pressed to the vein that still wept crimson along his right arm and on Rhys’ floor. “Come here.”

“Fuck off, Lawrence,” The blanket on the bed stirred like an angry snake.

Rhys watched how the warlock pursed his lips in annoyance and gently ran his fingers along the wrist, tracing the rune that looked exactly like Jack’s. A loud yelp was a reply and the covers were tossed aside as Jack jumped on his feet and walked towards the man he referred to as Lawrence. His own tattoo was shining bright purple, painful looking lines pulsating and running up his arm.

“What,” He snarled as he towered above his ‘twin’. “I am under a binding and you are not welcome.”

“I never am,” Lawrence shrugged his shoulders, unphased by poorly contained hostility as his hands rested on the demon’s slim waist. “Human form, please.”

Jack’s muscles reacted to the touch and he tensed, squaring his shoulders. The warlock sighed and muttered something about ‘showing off’ as his fingers clasped at own wrist again and this time Jack released a scream, falling onto the ground. The net of angry purple lines reached his neck, spreading further akin to a disease. He shivered as, once again, his form started collapsing on itself, shimmering and changing until a nearly identical and very naked version of Lawrence stood up, trembling and finally falling into the warlock’s arms. Rhys could see the difference now: the other man was a brunette with bicoloured eyes and Jack mirrored him perfectly, jet - black hair and golden irises aside.

“Hundred and twenty years, you inconsiderate asshole,” Lawrence said sternly as he pulled Jack’s head backwards by the hair and the next moment their lips locked in a kiss. 

The most surprising and unnerving thing was not that there were two men in his bedroom. Or the puddle of blood underneath them. No, it was that despite what had just happened, Jack answered the kiss, pressing needily into the other man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE IS TEH ART. WAS IT WORTH THE WAIT??? YOU KNOW IT WAS.


	5. The 'Ah', the 'Oh' and the 'Why, I'd never!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there, amazing people. We are both so happy that you are still enjoying our little project. it took a little bit but adulting and creativity don't always go hand in hand.
> 
> Once again, this chapter all the saucy stuff is in after credits, so to speak. But we are nice like that, we will give you a preview :P
> 
> Let us know how you liked this chapter :3 Kudos and comments are the bread and butter of the creator ;)
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* * *

The demon’s narrow hips ground into Lawrence’s causing the grip on Jack’s hair to relax. His hand slid down neatly combed charcoal strands and fell onto the demon’s shoulder, long fingers digging into the flesh as Jack locked the other man into a possessive embrace. Their lips never parted for a moment and Rhys, who still stood on the other side of the bed, caught himself gawking at the display. A ripple ran across Jack’s muscles and Rhys, wide - eyed, watched how the demon’s fingers blackened and the long claws extended forth, ripping through Lawrence’s tartan shirt as knife through butter. The warlock hissed something into the kiss and Jack responded with a chuckle, a single claw tracing the curve of Lawrence’s spine underneath the ruined clothes and eliciting a quiet moan, followed by an almost desperate arching of his back.

The pitiful remains of the well - crafted obnoxious outfit fell on the floor, and Rhys found himself staring at two men with nothing but a pair of skinny jeans between them. Lawrence pulled back, hand on Jack’s broad chest and pushed him towards and onto the bed. _His_ damn bed. Rhys took a deep breath to scold the perverts but as the demon’s fingers hooked under Lawrence’s belt and wishfully tugged on the bleached material, the young man snapped his mouth shut and retreated to the living room, forfeiting the battle before it has even begun.

As he sat at the table, desperately trying to ignore mildly terrifying and extremely obscene sounds coming from the bedroom Rhys frowned, thinking about the last few moments before he shamefully dashed out of the room. Lawrence’s back flashed in his mind’s eye: a picture perfect canvas marred by a chain of terrible scars that wrapped around him like coils, eventually disappearing beneath the waistband of his jeans. Underneath the ruined and twisted skin there was a peculiarly shaped burn but the warlock had turned around before Rhys could take a better look.

It looked as if… As if - 

Rhys chewed vigorously on his bottom lip, desperately trying to recall where he has seen this kind of scarring before. Unable to do so he sighed and hid his face in his hands, once again acutely aware of the two men copulating behind the closed doors. He had to burn the bed, Rhys wagered. Maybe, if he was lucky, those two will accidentally do it for him and save Rhys any further embarrassment.

* * *

“A Hyperion virgin?” Jack’s voice nudged Rhys out of his uncomfortable slumber and the young man lifted his head away from his arms, stifling a moan at how sore and wooden his muscles felt.

“And awake,” an identical voice responded and the next moment a hand squeezed his shoulder. “Hey there, cupcake, rise and shine.”

“You chased me out of my own bedroom!” Rhys swatted the hand away and glared at Jack, pondering if he should put him in his place now or wait till the moment the demon was not expecting it.

“Kiddo, you were _very_ welcome to join us,” Jack said sweetly, hand once again teasing Rhys’ skin around the binding rune and prompting yet another irritated swat.

“Not when you were, uh, were - ”

“Fucking, buttercup,” Jack said helpfully and chortled as Rhys felt his neck becoming warm, heat creeping up towards his ears.

“Enough,” Lawrence’s voice was quiet, but Jack fell silent immediately, letting Rhys go and crossing arms on his chest. The warlock put the glass of water away and gestured at the demon. “Put some clothes on, please.”

“The dumbest human invention if you ask me,” Jack replied sourly and gestured at his nether regions. “Why hide this? It’s _perfect_.”

Lawrence’s fingers twitched towards his wrist and the demon quickly shut his mouth, detaching himself from Rhys and stepping away, all but oozing protest at the request. Jack cussed as his image shimmered at a soft beat and the next moment he came in focus once again, dressed in black with vague golden accents that reminded Rhys of the scales Jack had in his demon form.

“Happy?” He hissed at Lawrence but when the warlock did not reply Jack cursed again and announced he was going to get some fresh air. He promptly did so soon after, angrily muttering about entitled assholes laying claim to his right to be himself. Lawrence stared blankly in the direction Jack went and then shrugged his shoulders, turning his attention to Rhys, who had suddenly felt very uncomfortable and exposed under the harsh glare of the bi - coloured eyes.

“We weren’t properly introduced,” Lawrence said softly and stretched out his arm. “Timothy.”

Rhys carefully accepted the handshake and was immediately taken aback by how gentle and careful Lawrence was as he squeezed his fingers. The way he treated Jack Rhys figured the man was anything but.

“Rhys,” he finally answered, returning the handshake. “Rhys Evans”

“Evans. Of Hyperion, perchance?” Despite the question Rhys was pretty sure that Timothy was just asking for the confirmation of what he already knew.

“ _Formerly_ of Hyperion,” He answered curtly and turned away, hand involuntarily running up and down his left arm, where the long sleeve was covering his chastity ward. “I left and am not planning on going back.”

"And I suppose _that_ had something to do with it?" Lawrence nonchalantly eyed the fabric that covered Rhys' ward, lips drawing in a knowing smile.

"How do you - "

"Please, that thing was practically sputtering and vibrating the moment I laid a finger on Jack."

Rhys frowned and pursed his lips together: whatever tolerance he had for the other warlock was wearing down fast. He did not appreciate the intrusion and the visual scrutiny from those odd coloured and eerily attentive eyes.

"It's none of your business."

"Seeing as you summoned _my_ demon, I can tell you now that it very much is."

"Yours? Since when do mortals claim demons?"

"You’re awfully perceptive for someone your age,” Timothy laughed curtly and crossed the arms on his chest, rattling two small rodent skulls that adorned his necklaces. The small purple wisps within the dead eye sockets flashed momentarily, dimming soon afterwards. “I see why he likes you."

The last comment made heat creep down Rhys’ neck, into his chest and finally pool in his abdomen, ruffling up the - still largely unfamiliar - feelings. Lawrence looked pleased with the reaction he had caused, his eyes glued to Rhys’ left arm. Not a moment later the ward flashed brightly and Rhys felt a sickening cold sweat smother him head to toe, a painful grunt leaving his mouth as he dug own nails into the skin, trying to relieve the discomfort.

Neither desire nor lust was something Rhys Evans was permitted to feel. 

Cursed or 'chosen', depending on who you asked, Rhys was groomed to be the future of the Hyperion Clan. Sequestered from the rest, marked and not able to love or lie with another until certain preparations were made, Rhys spent most of his life in solitude. His own father was both his mentor and his jailor, feeding him promises of bright future and the important role Rhys had to play in it. When it became clear what Hyperion was planning, what they really wanted him to do and to become, he fled; but the mark stayed. Unable to remove it, the ward kept reminding Rhys of what his 'true purpose' was.

“A conduit for the First, aren’t you?” Lawrence asked evenly, watching for Rhys’ reaction. He had his answer when the young warlock’s face twitched pitifully as he made himself smaller. Timothy wanted to continue but as he was about to say something, the door flew open and Jack stepped in, predatory smile on his handsome features and eyes gleaming.

“Timtam, we’re either in on a big and beautiful orgy or,” He cracked his knuckles in anticipation, extending the claws and baring already elongated and sharp teeth . “Shit’s about to go down.”

As if in confirmation to Jack’s last statement the house shook from the explosion hitting the outside wall, the wards barely managing to repel the offensive spell. Lawrence jumped up, purple magic swirling around his fingers and creeping up the arms.

“Who?” he dropped curtly as he stalked towards the entrance, gesturing the demon to follow and for once Jack did so without a single objection, hooting with an almost animalistic glee.

“Hyperion, pumpkin,” The demon squared his shoulders and licked his lips in anticipation, sending shivers down Rhys’ spine. “I hear they are the tastiest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, Are you ready for the goodness? We are, tee hee.
> 
> Rhysie is so not amused. Not at all. Poor virgin boy. But for how long? *dirty eyebrow wiggle*


End file.
